a draft
Button Button
Who’s got the
Switch that the witch
Used to stitch
Up his legs till they
Itched and he
Cried cause they lied
‘Bout the boy and
Half-tried just to
Blame him
And claim him
And shame him
To pieces.
The nieces
And nephews
And cousins
All sighed
Because everyone knows
That the witch isn’t blind
She just plays that for
You and for me
So that we
Can feel slick
When we flicker
All candlestick quicker.
We don’t feel
The burn till
The lock tumbler turns
And we look through
The bars to the sky
That’s not ours.
Anita DeRouen 